


The Selfie Gene

by Angryangryowl



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15523767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: Hermann accidentally sends a selfie to Newt. His response is unexpected...





	The Selfie Gene

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostOfDorothyStreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostOfDorothyStreet/gifts).



It's a rookie mistake. Newton is never going to let him forget about this, not for the entire span of eternity, and Hermann hates himself for it. Because however he protests, there's no way out of this that doesn't involve some measure of excruciating embarrassment.

 

It had started innocently enough, though perhaps a little vain. He'd wanted to send a picture of himself to his mother. Her profound deafness prevents much talking on the phone these days, though as they've both acknowledged, some things don't work quite so well in text-based communication. Like seeing her sweet boy’s face for the first time in a decade.

 

So he'd straightened his jacket and collar, run a comb through his rather blunt fringe and posed, feeling a little foolish, against a blackboard filled with his most recent calculations, holding up his data pad and tapping the icon to activate the front camera. Click.

 

How he'd managed to send it to Dr. Geiszler was anybody's guess. Until he noticed the 'send’ icon, a scrolling sequence of blue dots in one corner of the screen. He clicks itm check and checks again, mouth open in horror when he can't delete the damning evidence. Delete, the message, the conversation, the entire memory of the device. Nothing. Shit.

 

He's being silly, he tells himself. This was an honest mistake. But sending a follow up message to apologise for his error sounds worse somehow. Demanding far more attention from Newton 'Call me Newt’ Geiszler than he's quite sure he wants. So he puts the pad aside, drains his coffee cup and tries to get back to work. Fuel efficiency, namely for use in the thruster jets in jeagers. He’s no engineer, but he's convinced if he can get the compression rate just right, that sweet spot between pressure, air, and fuel in the combustion chamber, then-

 

His tablet buzzes, interrupting his train of thought. It's Newton.

 

_ Dr. N. Geiszler: Looking good, Herms! _

 

He looks down at the device for a long moment suppressing a sudden urge to throw it, hard, against the steel wall. Eventually he picks it up to reply.

 

_ My apologies. That was meant for someone else. There's no need to make fun. _

 

There’s a little venom in that last part. But really, how dare he? Hermann is realistic about both how he looks and how other people perceive him. His body, too skinny in some parts, and too pillowy soft in others, rapidly descending into middle age, crippled by his hip (a botched surgery to correct hip dysplasia as a child). His face is….his face just is.

 

He's sure that any and all of his feelings about Dr. Geiszler can be blamed on him being the only, even moderately attractive man close to Hermann's age that has been in his close proximity in years. It's a real shame he's so irritating. Nosy. Obnoxiously loud and enthusiastic. Disgusting in his lab habits. Reckless. Almost boyishly handsome and frankly brilliant. Not that Hermann has any plans to tell him about that last part. 

 

The pad buzzes again.

 

_ Dr. N. Geiszler: Who's making fun? You’re gorgeous. Got someone special to send that to? _

 

Now he  _ knows  _ Newton is making fun of him. This is all some long, cruel joke, a comically exaggerated gesture to point out how laughable the idea of Newton ever finding him attractive is.

 

_ Just my mother. She hasn't seen me in a few years. _

 

It's difficult to convey the snippiness he wants to through a text message. He's feeling defensive. Until his datapad buzzes again on the countertop.

 

_ Dr. N. Geiszler: She's gonna love it. Though kinda happy I don't have to compete with anyone. I’d be heartbroken! _

 

There's one of those godawful little yellow faces on the end of the message. Frowning,shedding a single tear. Interesting. His heart flutters in his mouth. He could mess so much up for himself by replying. And yet..

 

_ You’ll be pleased to know you have me to yourself a little while longer. _

 

Newton replies immediately. Of course he does. Absolutely everything the man does has to be at full-throttle, or it's not worth his attention.

 

_ Dr. N. Geiszler: Only a little while? Aww man...guess I’d better make the most of it! ;) _

 

Everything Hermann has to lose, his job,the only thing even approximating a friend that he has, pales into insignificance next to his curiosity. 

 

_ And how would that differ from our current arrangement? _

 

He curses himself, pacing in front of his backboard, fingers digging into his palm around the handle of his cane.

 

_ Dr. N. Geiszler: There would be more kissing. Like, a lot more kissing _

 

He can't quite believe it. And on the off chance that Newton is entirely serious about kissing him, his next message will put him off…

 

_ You want to kiss me? _

 

_ Dr. N. Geiszler: Yeah, man. Since the first day I met you. _

 

Hermann is still staring at his datapad pondering what to do next. Offer Newton coffee or dinner or just the chance to kiss him, because if he wants that too, maybe Hermann can admit to himself just how much he'd like it. He's still gazing at the screen when the lab door creaks open,the jarring squeal of rusting steel on steel jolting him out of his daydream.

 

Newton enters, his shock of dark hair even more vertical than usual, a rosy flush in his usually pale cheeks, and Hermann wonders if this is the first time he's seen him look truly nervous. He's a little short of breath, like he's been hurrying, his tie loose and at an even more curious angle than usual.

 

'So uh...about that message, Herms..’

 

Hermann stares him down, daring him to turn him down, make fun of him, say this was all a mistake…

 

'Can we still do that?’

 

He's shocked into silence for a moment. His mouth open but entirely lost for words. And finally 'Can we...kiss?’

 

'Yeah’ Newton’s face and shoulders relax a little, like he's grateful that someone else said it ' _ That’ _

 

Hermann raises an eyebrow, skeptical 'You weren't going to ask me for coffee first?’

 

'I can walk you to the distribution unit down the hall if you want but..’ He looks particularly adorable with that sheepish smile.

 

'I think I'm alright for now.’ He takes a couple of steps closer, into Newt’s space, close enough to touch him, though not just yet 'Just a kiss?’

 

'You’re gonna kill me, dude..’ Newton’s voice is a rough whisper, his mouth a couple of inches from Hermann's 'Whatever you want, I'm game..’

 

This is almost stupid in its recklessness. But Hermann has dealt with his own impending doom enough times in the past few years to be a little reckless. He reaches for him, slipping his arm around Newton's waist to rest in the small of his back. He's warm, soft around the waist, and so perfect Hermann barely dates to breathe.

 

He isn't quite sure who kisses who first. Only that one moment they are blind, eyes closed, breathing hard against each other’s mouths. Then they are kissing, soft and a little shy at first, but quickly abandoned in favour of something more heated, greedy, one of Newton's hands on his hip and the other sliding into his hair as he pulls him close, kissing him insistent and breathless until they're both leant against the edge of his desk, one of Newton's knees pressed between his. Catching their breath as Newton's sweet mouth intersperses each breath with a soft kiss to his jaw, his neck…

 

'Wish you knew..’ he murmurs into the fold of Hermanns collar 'Wish you knew how amazing you are. How gorgeous you are…’

 

'I..’ his voice is a little high and watery when he speaks 'I want you to know the same. And how long I've thought about this...and...Newton..’

 

There's no more talking then, a suppressed groan as Newt presses him back, nudging him to sit on the desk top, pressing them closer as they kiss, wrap their arms around each other, Hermann grabbing a fistful of his shirt, silently agreeing that perhaps more than a kiss may be alright..

  
  
  
  



End file.
